The Witch Doctor Incident
Chapter Two
Day 2 - Friday January 13th, 2006
Danny flew for hours. After supper (earth time) he headed back to the speeder, never seeing a single ghost. They reached Elvis Rock and moved on for the next landmark, the doors to Dora’s Castles. Late into the night they reached the doors. Danny tried to enter the castle realm on his own but the doors did not move, locked from the other side. If not for the presence of the hunters, he would have passed through the doors in human form. Instead, he laid an icy cold hand on the unmovable door that kept ghosts like himself and the Witch Doctor out.
Midnight in the Ghost Zoned could be mistaken for day if not for clocks and the exhausted hunters. Anderson ordered Thor, Towns, and Jacobs to the cargo area and the awaiting fold-out bunks. That left Janet Smith to fly the speeder while Danny lounged in the co-pilot’s seat as the speeder made its way farther from Amity and the real world.
Eventually Smithy kicked him out of the cockpit with the excuse that he should try to get some sleep. He tried to protest but his body betrayed him and he yawned in the middle of his argument. She physically dragged him to the back and tucked him into a bunk, boots and all.
“Do you do this to your own kids?” he asked as he pulled off his headset and set it on the floor within easy reach.
“Of course. Especially when they insist they don’t need to go to bed,” she answered with a motherly smile. “It doesn’t matter if you’re a ghost or not, you’re still a teenager and you should get some sleep.”
“I can always get up after you’re gone,” he mumbled to himself as Smithy started back to the cockpit.
“Ask my kids what happens when they sneak out,” she said over her shoulder. The battle not worth it, Danny pulled the blanket over his head and settled down. With some turning and one last resigned sigh, he closed his eyes and chanted ‘stay in ghost form... stay in ghost form’ in his head. His body relaxed and sleep claimed him.
Hours later something shook his shoulder and a voice scolded him from outside his blanket cocoon.
“It’s Friday, Mom. Can’t I skip school today?” he said, sleep still clouding his mind. Laughter erupted all around him and none of it sounded anything like his mother’s.
“At lease he knows the day of the week ‘Mom’.” The voices became clearer and started to sound familiar. He fought the haze of sleep, trying to figure out where he was.
“Get up, Phantom!”
The name shocked him awake. He sat up on the bunk, the blanket slipping off his head. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. Opening his bright-colored eyes he looked past the silver hair to see the hunters spread out in the cargo area. Danny pushed his hair away from his face, relieved to have stayed in his ghost form and none of the humans were the wiser.
“It’s time for the briefing,” Anderson said gruffly. Stiffly, he turned around and headed back to the cockpit. Janet piped up just before he passed the threshold.
“Give him a minute to wake up…Mom,” Smith added the last with a snicker. She dropped onto Danny’s bunk while Townsend and Thorton spun chairs around to face Danny’s bunk. The halfa remained where he was as he wrapped his blanket around his shoulders.
The speeder shuddered and whined before he heard a large clunk. Curious, Danny stuck his head out the wall to see where they were. The speeder sat on a large chunk of rock sheltered by green haze. The rest of the ghost zone remained indistinguishable beyond the fog. He pulled his head back in to see the three hunters staring at him
“Did you have to do that?” Towns asked.
“Yeah,” he said with a sleepy yawn. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a little unnerving to see someone stick their head through a solid metal wall, that’s all,” Thor told him. Anderson returned to the cargo area at that point, Jacobs in tow. The pilot pulled up a crate to sit on while their leader opted to stand.
“Do we have to go over this again?” Smithy asked while repressing her own yawn.
“We’ve only gone over this five times already,” Jacobs agreed. Every one else present nodded.
“I want you all prepared when we confront this ghost. If that means we go ever the information fifty times, we will.”
He pushed a button on the wall. A panel slid to reveal a flat screen. The TV reluctantly flickering to life, a standard picture ID found at any hospital in the US filling the screen. Smiling deceptively from the screen a woman with skin of ebony and eyes a sparkling violet. In contrast to the dark skin and eyes, the hair pulled into a bun shone silvery-white. Only her head and lab coat-covered shoulders were visible but the rest of her must have appeared just as human.
“Doctor Patricia Nuodov. Born in Africa, went to school in Atlanta, Georgia. Became a pediatrician working at various hospital and worked at Amity General since November. Wonderful doctor and liked by her coworkers at the hospital. Only problem is that her heart stopped decades ago and she calls herself the Witch Doctor.
“She has the basic ghost powers: flying, invisibility, intangibility and ectoabilities. On top of that she seems to have specialized in abilities that mimic Vodoun or Voodoo as most people know it. It isn’t known how much she follows the traditional earth voodoo and how much is her personal style. The last of her known abilities, and probably the most interesting, is her ability to create portals to and from the Ghost Zone.”
He pressed another button and the ID picture shrunk and moved to the corner of the screen. A new black and white image replaced it on the screen. This one looked slightly out of focus, like it had been magnified. The picture was of a ghost in motion. A soft glow set off her purple skin. Silver hair made waves down her back, beads strung through her mane. She wore a simple linen shirt, the collar open enough to reveal beaded necklaces. Her skirt flowed to the floor and Danny assumed it was as multicolored as the beads she wore. A shawl fell down her back and wrapped around her elbows adding to the eccentric and elegant image.
The picture came to life in silence. The woman walked across the room and stepped into the shadows not reached by a nightlight near the door. A subtle glow shimmered around her as she passed a crib and knelt next to a bed. From inside her shirt she pulled out a vial. She lifted up the sleeping child in the bed and poured the contents of the vial down his throat. The boy coughed and light flashed around him, creating a glow similar to the ghost’s aura. The ghost witch picked up the child just as someone burst into the room. The camera caught her insincere smile before she spoke words unheard by the camera.
The man dropped to the floor with a silent scream. Nuodov paid him no more attention, turning from the collapsed human. She shifted the child in her arms and swept her free hand in a circular motion. The air tore apart and the unholy light of the Ghost Zone illuminated the bedroom. The ghost stepped into the portal that she created. It sealed behind her, plunging the room in darkness.
The television blanked out before returning to the initial images of the Witch Doctor, a human id and the ghost version of the same woman. The cold silence filled the speeder just as it had filled the room the first time the hunters observed this video. Each viewing turned Danny’s heart to ice, fearing for the innocent children already taken by the mad woman. A similar scene had played out fourteen other times, each one leaving an empty bedroom and fallen parents in its wake. Anderson’s jaw clenched tight before he started talking.
“The little boy is Matthew West, only five years old. With all of the previous kidnappings his parents became paranoid and installed a closed circuit camera in the bedroom. They thought that would be enough to protect him and his baby brother.
“Fifteen children were taken over the past two weeks, ages ranging from four to seven years of age… all of different cultural backgrounds, race, and a mix of boys and girls. At five of the homes parents or other adult relatives were incapacitated while all other minor children were left alone, unharmed.” The cold silence continued though the cargo hold. This was all old information, even if it was painful to hear. The Ghost Hunters had protected Amity for the past couple of months with little collateral damage and with minimal civilian injuries. Now fifteen children were missing and the city doubted the hunters for the first time.
Soberly, Anderson discussed their strategy. The hunters planned on reaching Pariah Dark’s castle the following day. Once there, they would break off into two groups to search the castle for the witch, the children, and any clues if neither ghost nor children were found. If the Witch Doctor resided in the castle as they hoped, one group would confront Nuodov while the others search and rescue the humans. Again, Anderson expounded on everyone’s roles and went over details everyone knew. At the end he added one last thing, one note new to those assembled.
“Right before we left, I finally received the analysis on the vial found at the Schrader’s house.”
“What vial?” Danny asked. He didn’t remember hearing anything about a vial (or anything else) found at victim number twelve’s house.
“The cops found it under a dresser after we left,” Jacobs explained. “It appeared to be similar to the vial in the video. We figured the witch dropped it when the family dog attacked her. She killed it and left in a hurry with a six year old child. The vial must have fallen when she was attacked.”
“We ended up sending one of the samples to a crime lab in Baltimore to get a spectral analysis of the residue left inside the glass,” Anders interrupted. “They found a lot of interesting things, mostly a variation of common ectoplasm. The stuff has the ability to adhere to human blood cells and other tissues. The ecto doesn’t seem to affect bodily functions or cause any damage.”
“What would be the purpose of that?” The question came from Townsend as he leaned back in his seat. Danny’s forehead furrowed as he recalled a past conversation with Val and their arguments about one of the stranger facts about the ghost zone.
“It’s got to be a way to get around the intangible-human thing in the ghost zone,” he said out loud. Everyone turned towards him after his outburst. He started at Nuodov’s picture and chewed his lip, mentally trying to put the idea into words.
“Explain,” Anderson ordered.
“Well,” Phantom started, “humans and human objects tend to phase through everything in the ghost zone. If a person has a strong enough will they can make themselves tangible for a short time. Otherwise, a human has to be under the influence of a ghost artifact or be internally infused with ectoplasm to become tangible.”
“Theoretically, there has to be some isolated areas of the ghost zone where humans can interact with ghost without ectoplasm or gadgets.” Townsend’s theory hit pretty close to the truth.
“There are some spots,” Danny said after a time. “There is only one or two that I know of personally and they are the lairs to very powerful ghosts. Normally, other ghosts wouldn’t trespass but maybe one would for an ingredient found no where else in the zone.”
“I wonder if the ectoplasm is different in these areas,” Smith mused. “It would explain why the ecto in the vial was a little different than the stuff normally found here. If you could bottle it…”
“And get it ingested by a human,” Thor continued, “with the other proper ingredients; you would have a magical elixir that would allow a human to interact with the ghost zone all the time. There would be no need for gadgets, artifacts, or a strong will. It would be perfect for…”
“For a child,” Danny finished the thought. “And since there is no damage to the human tissues it wouldn’t be harmful like some objects that I have seen used on humans.”
“Well,” Jacobs said, “this could be the answer to one of our questions about our dear witch. If this ‘elixir’ is able to keep the kids tangible in the ghost zone then they could be held against their will and they may not show up on the Real World Item Locator. They would appear to have ectoplasm like everything else. The question is why does she want the children in the first place?”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
She smiled down at the sleeping figures. Fifteen little children at the perfect age for her to mold into perfect apprentices lay spread out across the room. Red eyes twinkled with the possibilities that slept right below her. A whimper drew her attention to one small child. A little girl, hair pulled into pigtails, turned and tossed in her sleep. The witch walked down the steps, letting her footfalls warn the girl that some one walked towards her.
Predictably, the girl stopped moving and pretended to be asleep. The ghost smiled, amused by the actions of her little girl. She knelt next to the child, laying an ice cold hand on her shoulder. The human startled and jumped away from the touch.
“It is just a dream, Dear Heart,” she said. “Mama Nuodov is here to protect you.” The girl looked up to see a very human-looking woman crouched next to her bed. With a whispered word the Witch Doctor’s purple skin hid under brown and her eyes became a shaded violet. Her clothes retained their whimsical colors but her aura sunk underneath, hiding her ghostly countenance. “Nothing can hurt you, Emily.”
‘Emily’ jumped into her arms, her fear departed. Cradling the girl, the witch stood up and rocked her as they made their way to the upper level and to her workshop. This late in the Ghost Zone she had work to do. Some of her potions could only be brewed during the ‘night’ of the zone when ghosts relaxed and an icy wind tore across the grounds of the castle. Trusting one of the ghostly whispers to alert her if another child awoke, she entered her workshop and closed the heavy wooden door. Shelves lined the walls while tables filled half the room. In one bare portion of the far wall a set of glass doors opened to a balcony with a view of the ghost zone. Her attention was not drawn to the balcony but to the right of the doors. Near a window a book waited for her on a bookstand. Every spell she discovered, every potion created was recorded in this single tome.
She gracefully made her way to the book, idly turning pages as the little girl snuggled against her shoulder. A ghost of a smile pressed against her lips as thoughts of all she could teach the human in her arms. Finally she found the page she sought, a binding spell and potion; easy to learn and brew for the child but wickedly useful in the Ghost Zone.
A hesitant cough drew her attention from the book and destroyed her good mood.
“What are you doing back,” she hissed at the ghost. Standing in the balcony doorway a humanoid ghost waited nervously. One of her spies, she charged him with the observation of the Amity Park portal. Instead, he took up space on her balcony.
“I bring news,” his rough voice ground out. “Humans have entered the Ghost Zone and are taking the path to the ghost king’s castle.”
The Witch Doctor took the news realistically, without displays of temper or destruction of items or spies. She expected the humans to search for her children, just not so soon. Nuodov set the girl down on one of the tables before lighting a fire and placing a cauldron over it. Plans formed immediately, each one a different way of dealing with the intruders.
“How many humans?” she asked while dumping brackish water into the cauldron.
“Five and the halfa is traveling with them.” She nodded to herself and selected a jar from the shelves. She sprinkled the contents into the water.
“I have slept many long years. What is this ‘halfa’?” The spy took this as his cue to enter the room. He stepped closer ash she danced between the fire and the shelves adding ingredients to the cauldron.
“He is half human and half ghost. He claims to protect the humans and forces ghosts back into the ghost zone.”
“Does this creature have a name?”
“Danny Phantom.”
“He’s probably a ghost with a deluded sense of purpose. The right object or talisman and he will be at my mercy. Humans…humans on the other hand barely touch this plane,” she mused out loud as she tapped her chin. “I need something special to bind my creatures so they can touch these intruders to the ghost zone.”
Coolly she picked up a ceremonial knife and approached the little girl once forgotten. The Witch Doctor touched her cheek while smiling at the innocent child.
“It will only hurt for a second Dear Heart,” she promised the girl. With one quick movement her knife bit and the girl screamed. Nuodov smiled coldly before tossing her prize into the boiling cauldron.
“Stop those tears,” she soothed the startled girl. “Hair grows back.” The girl sniffled as she gently fingered the stub where a pigtail once hung. The witch picked up little Emily and brought the girl with her to the cauldron. Softly she sang the song of binding and explained the ingredients to her little apprentice. The little girl watched, fascinated by the swirling, changing colors of the potion. The Witch Doctor smiled as she continued her unnatural song. Finally the cauldron shimmered green. Bouncing the girl on her hip, she took a wicker basket off a shelf and set it down next to the fire.
“Pick one out,” she instructed Emily. She hesitantly reached into the basket and lifted out a small rag doll. Faceless and crude, the little bundle of cloth appeared harmless and inert.
“Toss it into the pot,” the ghost gently ordered. Emily dropped the doll in and squealed when a small cloud of pink curled into the air. The woman threw in her own rag doll and it landed with its own puff of orange smoke.
Nineteen more dolls joined the first two inside the cauldron. Each floated below the surface, the water turning from green to a sickly red, darker with each addition. She stirred the liquid four times before placing the lid, hiding the dolls from sight. She moved the cauldron from the fire and left it suspended in the air.
She handed Emily to her informant with calming words to send the girl to sleep and the two headed back to the dormitory. With the child out of sight an evil smile crawled across her face as the human image dissolved. Pots and vials jumped at the flick of her wrist. She sang a new song, more sinister that the songs for Emily. She sang for the defeat of her enemies, of absolute loss and destruction. As new potions created themselves under her watchful eyes, she perched on a table to keep singing. She sang for the deaths of the souls of the humans and ghost that thought to defy her and steal back her children, her little apprentices. Off to the side the cauldron of dolls shivered with her words.
Chapter Three